Team FKUP
by dritt
Summary: Four freshly-graduated hunters from Haven begin a road trip that nearly immediately goes wrong.
1. Prologue

Prologue  
Or  
What Qualifies as a Hero Anyways?

* * *

Every semblance is unique. This is something everyone is taught, from the earliest part of their education on aura. While this is generally true barring several famous exceptions (I'm looking at **you** , Schnees) it does **not** mean that every semblance is useful. For every person who can supercharge with electricity, there is somebody who can communicate with goldfish (terrible conversationalists, by the way). Some gain power when their aura takes hits, and others can find spelling errors incredibly quickly (which is great for papers, but pointing out an incorrect use of "hurt" in future indicative will hardly slow down a charging beowulf). People like that don't generally become hunters in the first place, and prefer to join civilian jobs, marry cute civilians, and live humble civilian lives, which is a perfectly valid choice if your greatest defense was your PhD thesis and not some valiant action on a grimm-filled battlefield.

Some, however, have the hunter life thrust upon them, and must rise to the occasion while surrounded by peers who can wield god-like abilities purely due to a genetic fluke. They still benefit from a trained aura, and are much faster and stronger than any civilian, but without a trump-card they could be doomed to a gruesome death when their training fails them.

This is their story.

* * *

Fawn woke up early from a fitful sleep. It wasn't due to Umber's snoring (though it definitely contributed); instead he was nervous. This was the last night he would spend in Haven Academy, and he didn't feel ready to leave yet. He and his team, FUNK, had just graduated yesterday, and were expected to sally forth into the wild world of Remnant to protect life and uphold the values of hunter-dom.

Plus he assumed women would love hunters, those dashing heroes whose stories thrilled pubs and spawned free drinks across the globe.

Fawn's partner, Umbra, snored softly on a bed to his right. The man was far too large for the bed, and his dark feet stuck out a solid foot past the edge of the mattress. Umbra was large, strong, and friendly which was the ideal combination to hold their team together (both literally **and** figuratively—he was quite strong). His semblance, like all of theirs, was completely useless, though after four years they had learned to adapt to situations, and became fairly well-rounded combatants, unlike those who relied on their OP semblances like a crutch.

At least that was what got them to sleep at night. Truth be told, they had never been strong contenders for the Vytal Tournament, aside from one time, their first year, the story of which will be told later.

Anyways, Umbra's semblance was body-hair growth. Thrilling, definitely, and the man could grow some amazing eyelashes in a flash—but fluttering one's eyelashes at a woman swinging a hammer at head height will at best result in a lighter concussion. At worst, the girl's boyfriend will hit you harder, as Umbra had painfully learned. His weapon was a massive claymore sword, which only he could use effectively, due to its immense weight.

Fawn heard Navy turn over in his bed, mumbling. Navy, who called himself "Nightraven", stuck out as an odd character on a team that could already (extremely) generously be referred to as "quirky". His semblance was to turn any clothes he wore slowly and inevitably black (though how much that was accelerated due to mixing darks and lights in the washer was up to guesswork). Because of this, the man had adopted a personality one could call "edgy", and wore his black clothes with pride. He also, to Fawn's regret, wore a trenchcoat and fingerless gloves with pride, and had only recently ceased to wear sunglasses indoors.

Ah well, small progress was some progress, and Navy wasn't a bad guy, despite his appearance (half of which wasn't his fault anyways). He consistently annoyed the professors for "ignoring the dresscode", when the grey trim of his uniform inexorably blackened (or, more reasonably, when he wore his trenchcoat in class), and as team leader, Fawn was well accustomed to defending his friend and teammate in the headmaster's office. Navy's weapons were dual katanas with room for dust charges, and he actually wasn't half bad with them. He was the team's most dexterous member, and Fawn had personally seen him dance around a frustrated attacker, etching away at the opponent's strong aura while taking no hits himself (until he parked himself in place to deliver a stunningly ill-timed taunt, and got knocked into the next month).

The final member was Keppel, a weedy man with fiery-orange hair (which made him look not-dissimilar to a lit match at long distances), whose semblance meant he always knew the exact time—in Atlas standard. Surprisingly, this actually offered the most utility among the mix that composed FUNK, since he could also act as an alarm clock. He was also by far the smartest member of the team, and was definitely the only reason FUNK placed in the top 3 academically all four years at Haven. Keppel was also a master at inventing new ways to use dust to get his entire team nearly expelled, and if Fawn had to guess, he'd say that Haven now hosted an additional nine or ten new rules and restrictions as a result of his friend's efforts.

Keppel's weapon was incredibly Spartan for a hunter, just a shotgun (with a bayonet, added after a girl brought up "use in melee" as a critique). The weapon itself, however, wasn't the special component. What rocketed FUNK into Vytal that one fateful year, was instead the ammunition Keppel spend hours and hours of his day agonizing over.

* * *

The Rise and Fall of FUNK  
Or  
The story of how a bunch of nobodies qualified for the Vytal Tournament

* * *

The day before Haven hosted its qualifying tournament, Keppel strode into FUNK's room, and announced that this year was their year to win the Vytal Games.

Navy immediately dismissed his friend as having inhaled too much of the mixing chemicals, and told him to lie down and rest, but Umbra was intrigued and inquired as to Keppel's reasoning.

Keppel, with dying sun glinting maniacally off his glasses, proffered vials to his teammates, each of which glowed purple in the sunset darkness. He giggled, and explained that within these was their hopes and dreams (he eventually got to the important component, **gravity dust** ), and insisted yet again that these were the key to victory.

His plan was simple: most of their enemies were much more dangerous than they were due to completely broken abilities. When is it hardest to use those abilities? When you're being pushed face-down into the floor, with the effective weight of a mountain sitting on your back. The gravity dust in the vials were only a small fraction of what he'd managed to obtain (nobody asked him exactly **how** he'd obtained it, and really nobody wanted to know), with the rest imbued into shells for his weapon, and grenades for the rest of FUNK to use.

It was then that FUNK gained the hope that they could compete in the tournament, and each congratulated their friend on his incredible efforts, before descending into dreams of glorious victory.

The day of the qualifiers came, and their new gear performed as-advertised. None of their opponents could fight back against the technological superiority, and FUNK quickly rose as the dark-horse qualifiers for Haven. They were lauded by their classmates (or at least those not still bitter about the questionable tactics) as the ones who could claim victory for their school and kingdom. So, with great fanfare, they and the other qualifiers were shipped off to Atlas for the Vytal Tournament. It was a dream come true for the underdogs, and they sailed effortlessly through the first round, pinning all four opponents to the ground, where they could be hit by FUNK's weapons until they were finally ejected from the match.

Until those fateful words: "Those were the last grenades, guys."

The disbelief in their quarters could be tasted. Keppel merely shrugged and continued "that shit's expensive. I had to take out a loan and everything to buy the components, so I could only make that many. I was hoping to use our winnings to pay off the debt."

In the next round, Keppel and Fawn were crushed by a team consisting of somebody who could summon fireballs from the skies, and somebody who could teleport. And thus, FUNK returned, dejected.

* * *

Now that that's out of the way, we can return to Fawn himself. He wielded a shield and pistol (which he only added to his arsenal after realizing that he couldn't really **do** anything with just a shield), and blamed his poor choice on the fact that hunters were made to choose weapons at the age of 12, instead of when they had matured enough to stop idolizing fictional characters. His semblance was to always smell vaguely of strawberries. It wasn't a **bad** semblance, per se, and in fact he saved quite a bit of money on deodorant. Unfortunately, it didn't help much in combat, as they had never once encountered somebody who was allergic. Fawn stood at average height, and hosted brown hair and some dark purple eyes, which several of the women in the neighbouring dorms were fans of. One night, in their second year, a cute deer faunus finally approached him at a party, and they had retired to his bed. Unfortunately for him, UNK were irked by the sock dangling on the doorknob, and proceeded to listen at the door to clap and cheer immediately after Fawn had finished, prompting the girl to run off crying back to her room. Fawn managed to salvage the relationship, however they would always use her room instead from then on, much to her team's chagrin.

Umbra was immensely popular with certain types of women, and always found a way to get laid wherever he went (at the Vytal Tournament he was chased out of a female Vacuan competitor's room by an angry coach, barely escaping with his life). Unfortunately, he hadn't found his type yet, and was well on his way to becoming a cynical hopeless romantic, though he'd like to argue that his star-crossed trajectory began long before he first came to Haven.

His first impression was anything but, however, and he had enthused with Fawn about the wide array of "dating opportunities" that awaited them over their time at Haven. Navy's first impression wasn't great, but he made up for it by saving their lives during the entrance examination. Fawn hoped that the other schools were kinder to their inductees, and didn't throw them into a grimm-infested forest alone to form teams naturally like Haven did. Keppel had been the last person accreted into team FUNK, and had also coined their preferred alternate label, FKUP, or "fuckup" using Navy's last name. When confronted by the argument that there is no colour corresponding to "fuckup", he responded that it **was** quite colourful, and that for a society based off individuality, their freedom was being suppressed to an incredible degree. This immediately got him into the good graces of the rest of the team, though it certainly did a lot of damage to their reputation with the Haven establishment.

As Fawn lay awake in bed, memories danced through his mind, both good and bad. He remembered all the fun they had in this room, and wondered if the next occupants would be able to feel some connection to them, or if all traces of their existence would be brushed away with the dust and dirt over the summer. His poetic reverie was broken when Keppel sat straight up in bed and yelled.

"Hey, it's 6! Time to be up!"

This announcement was met with grumbled complaints, but everybody left the warm confines of their beds because today was going to be the start of a new adventure for FUNK.

After the Vytal incident, they had spent the summer working hard to repay the debts incurred by Keppel's ingenuity, and in the process had been given a shitty old car to make deliveries with. By the end of the summer, what was owed had been payed, and the source of employment had been raided by the police (FUNK had never looked too far into the details of the investigation). Fawn reasoned that the team might as well keep the car, however it sat idle in Haven's garage due to the exorbitant cost of the refined fire dust used as fuel. Finally, in their last year, Umbra had suggested that the team take a big road trip, off into the world, and had placated Navy's fears about money by suggesting that the team take on jobs as hunters during their foray. Navy begrudgingly accepted this, and the plan was hatched (though Fawn had a hell of a time explaining to his girlfriend, who was planning to go skiing with her team in Atlas, why he'd be out in the middle of nowhere fighting grimm right after graduation).

It only took them an hour to pack their final bags, and make their way down to the garage where the shitty old yellow car was waiting faithfully for them. They piled in, with Fawn behind the wheel (he'd drawn the short straw the night before), and started blasting the loudest music they could find from the tinny radio. The car rumbled loudly as they drove off, and as Fawn adjusted the mirror, he caught his last look at Haven Academy. Umbra, in the seat beside him, was dancing in place to the music, and occasionally he would sing along in an off-key baritone. Keppel was sitting just behind, with his unnaturally upright posture, and was staring out the window at the mountainside scenery. Finally, there was Navy, who was trying his utmost to catch a bit more sleep, the volume of his snoring rose and fell with that of the music suspiciously enough that Fawn suspected he wasn't really asleep.

They were finally off to be adventurers. And it felt right.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
Or  
A Less-Than-Ideal Start  
Or  
Love Conquers All

* * *

They had been driving for three hours. To Fawn, it had felt more like three days. Umbra had jockeyed for control of the music selection, and was currently blasting his favourite obscure Vale-core punk-blues band directly into everybody's ears. And hadn't stopped dancing. The suspension was sketchy enough, but with the biggest guy on the team waving his weight from side to side, something was likely about to give.

Fawn had to admire Navy's stoicism, though. The man hadn't once stopped pretending to sleep, even when they nearly careened off a mountain road thanks to one of Umbra's more explosive movements. Keppel had somehow fashioned earplugs from something he had found in the back seat, but Fawn didn't really want to know exactly what. Finally, he saw exactly what he'd been looking for.

"Alright guys, turn the music down. We're finally at a dust station."

"WOOOOOOOO!" Came the enthusiastic response from his immediate right, as Umbra punched the volume knob, turning the stereo off. Fawn felt blissful silence gently caress his ears. Until Umbra yelled out again, "So where should we go!?"

Fawn pulled the small, shaky car beside one of the pumps. He quickly exited the vehicle, to allow the other three to argue over their unknown destination. His stomach growled, as earlier complaints about hunger finally resurfaced, and he wandered into the attached convenience store.

He turned to the cashier, and nonchalantly said, "Thiry lien on pump three, please," before grabbing a couple packets of Vacuo-mix (which Navy loved), two Choco-blaster bars (for Keppel), a bag of jerky (which Umbra hated, but that's what he got for shoving his music choice in everybody's ears), and some of the new multi-flavour crisps that he'd personally always wanted to try (not to mention the catchy advertisement, where a beautiful Atlesian model ate them off a famous hunter's abs).

The cashier smiled at Fawn as he walked up to the counter, and cheerfully relayed the total price.

"That will be fifty-seven lien and two cents, please."

Surprised by the price, Fawn grudgingly went for his wallet. He'd known this trip would be expensive, but now that it was personally affecting him, he wasn't so excited anymore.

"Would you like to donate two lien to the Mothers against Crippling Brain Tumours in Children, sir?"

"No."

* * *

Back on the road, and with snacks in hand (and music on low volume), the mood had brightened significantly. Even Navy was actually acting awake and alert as the Vacuo-mix crunched in his mouth. Umbra had stared forlornly at the jerky for several minutes, as if he could transform it into something else through pure force of will alone, but had eventually relented as his stomach seized direct control of his mind.

"So we decided," continued Umbra, between mouthfuls of dried 'meat', "that we'd go to Vale."

"You mean **you** decided," muttered Navy, obviously annoyed. "And for the record, I seriously doubt Vale women are **that** much more beautiful…"

"Or **that** much easier, for that matter," interjected Keppel.

Fawn glared at Umbra, who shrugged, "They still agreed."

"Vale it is, I guess."

* * *

Three more hours (and three changes of final destination) later, and they were once again driving off to Vale, and had 'finalized' a route. Keppel was in charge of navigation, and was acting like the world's most neurotic GPS unit.

"Fawn, why are we in this lane? We've got to turn right in twenty kilometers! You should move over now while it's still clear."

"Dude we've been the only car on the road for the past half hour," said Fawn, sanity clearly beginning to break. He looked over at Umbra for help. Umbra just shrugged.

Fawn swore that if this was payback for the jerky, he'd get revenge so hard Umbra's grandchildren would still be surprised. But for now, he had to focus on the road. Thankfully, the continuous narration and warning seemed to grate on Navy's nerves just as much. The black-clad man punched the ceiling of the car in anger, which caused the car to shake dangerously on the empty road.

"Shut up for the love of—! "

Navy never got to finish his sentence, as a torrent of red dust poured down onto his head. The metal knuckles on his fingerless gloves had torn the fragile fabric of the ceiling, allowing whatever had been stowed there to fall free. Fawn, trying to avoid a nuclear panic, slowly and cautiously pulled the car over to the road's shoulder.

Keppel investigated the dust between his fingers, and his face betrayed his excitement.

"Do you know what this ?"

He stared at their confused faces.

"… I guess not. This is fire dust!" He sniffed it. "Extremely **pure** fire dust, at that."

Suddenly Navy looked scared.

"You mean… We've been riding around in a massive bomb this whole time?"

Keppel looked positively elated.

"Yup!"

Fawn nearly fainted.

* * *

Eventually, they decided that removing the dust would be too potentially dangerous, considering the relatively stable position it must currently be in (I mean, it hadn't exploded **yet** , had it?). Fawn had also finally remembered why he'd decided not to bring the car back to their temporary employers. He wasn't sure whether it contained anything incriminating, and wanted to avoid any possibility that the investigation would look at **them** instead.

As the small car ambled an extremely safe ten kilometers per hour under the speed limit, every nerve in Fawn's body was alive and afraid that even the smallest breeze would trigger their car. Umbra sat in his seat with such posture his grandparents were probably posthumously proud, while Navy looked so high-strung that it seemed he might explode well before the car ever did. Even Keppel had ceased his navigational duties, and was busy soaking up as much of the scenery the small window could provide before his early demise could come.

They continued like this well into the evening, until the small headlights illuminated a small sign reading:

FOOD N BORED BOARD

With a crude arrow drawn below, pointing left down a small side street.

Consensus was quickly reached, and the car gingerly turned down the dirt road, towards the promised place to stay. Fawn drove as quickly as he dared, highly motivated by the anticipation of a warm (not-likely-to-explode) bed.

There was a palpable sense of relief as they slowly pulled up outside the inn, cheerily called the "Innsmuth Spot" (whatever 'spot' meant in this context). As soon as the engine was turned off, they all fled the vehicle as quickly as possible after grabbing their gear and a change of clothes, to retreat towards the relative safety of the front desk, where an amused-looking old lady was keeping watch. Fawn did his best to not look too desperate.

"Do you have any rooms?"

"Oh yes, dear," she peered down her glasses at the motley group. "Unfortunately, we only have one available. Will that do?"

Fawn almost didn't want to ask, but thankfully Umbra did for him.

"How many beds are we talking about here?"

She smiled.

* * *

And that is how team FUNK found themselves all sharing one king-sized bed. Eventually, all semblance of caring about who was touching who where was given up to fatigue, and one by one they fell asleep.

Fawn was shaken awake. He groggily rubbed his eyes open, to see Navy's face far too close for comfort.

"I heard a scream."

"You," Fawn yawned. "were dreaming, dude. Go back to sleep."

"No, seriously. I heard a scream. Then I went to our door, and it's locked!"

"… What's the problem here?"

"It's locked from the outside!"

This woke him up. Together, he and Navy woke the other two, explaining the situation. Umbra was the first to get his wits fully together.

"Now was it a guy scream or a girl scream?"

The look the other three gave him would have cowed a lesser man.

"Fine, fine, I guess it doesn't really matter. What's the plan?" He smacked his fist into his palm, clearly already working on the planning front.

Fawn tried to think of an alternative, but couldn't. He grabbed his shield, and checked the magazine in his pistol.

"Looks like we've got work to do."

He heard stifled giggling behind him. Keppel spoke up,

"Maybe save the epic pose for when you're not wearing boxer-briefs." Embarrassed, he quickly threw on his spares, jeans and an old t-shirt, with the insignia of the Haven Academy Math League emblazoned across the front. The look on his face warned his teammates to say absolutely nothing.

Once they were all dressed and combat-ready, they lined up by the door. Tentatively, Fawn leaned forwards, pushing his ear flat against the cold wood.

"Sounds clear, guys," he whispered, "let's go!"

He drew back, and aimed a ferocious kick at the door, just beside the handle and lock. He felt his aura flare slightly as the wood buckled and splintered, and swung open to reveal the tacky wallpaper adorning the hallway. More disoriented than he cared to admit, he raised his shield to brace his aiming-arm against, and stumbled out into the hallway, the rest of FUNK close behind. On the door across the hall was scrawled some weird symbol on the door. It formed some kind of twisted path that seemed almost to squirm under his view. It pulsed, like a heartbeat, and chants of some unknown language began to run through Fawn's head. Until the hilt of Umbra's sword snapped him out of it. Confused, Fawn realized that he'd walked across the hallway, and had his face pressed against the door. He threw himself backwards, and looked distrustfully at the symbol adorning the door in red paint. Of course **now** it behaved normally.

"You alright?" There was note of concern in Umbra's voice, and Fawn subconsciously adopted a straighter, more steady posture.

"Still a bit tired, that's all," he responded, making sure to flash his team the usual grin. "Now we've got a maiden to save, don't we?"

Navy rolled his eyes, but Umbra raised his massive sword into the air until it scraped the ceiling.

"Aye," he replied, putting on the fakest old-Mantle accent possible, "we shall thus sally forth!" He then leveled the sword with the stairway down the hall, and opened his mouth.

"TALLY HOOOOOOOOO!" He bellowed, as he charged down the empty corridor. The rest of FUNK had to sprint to keep pace with Umbra, who was clearly enjoying himself a little too much. Once they'd reached the stairs, he came to a stop, and paused dramatically with his hand cupping his ear. He aimed up the stairs, and apparently dissatisfied with the lack of cries, faced down.

"There layeth the beast!" He yelled out, as he aimed his sword down the stairs, towards the lobby, and launched himself down at a run. Fawn heard Navy cursing to himself as they navigated the dark stairway, much more cautiously than their teammate had.

Finally, they caught up to Umbra, who was standing in the foyer, sword raised, with his head turning from side to side. He looked back to the team, and they saw that his eyes were wide with fear.

"Do you hear it, too?"

And there it was, faint even compared to the silence. No, it was almost as if it was a part of the silence itself. Creeping into their ears from every nook and crevice in the hotel.

 _ph'nglui mglw'nafh Yuggoth R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn_

Repeated endlessly. It was the sort of sound that seeps directly into one's head, which the ears swear up and down they didn't hear. The guttural sounds slithered through their minds, and seemed to tease long-ago forgotten memories to the forefront of consciousness. Symbols scrawled on the walls writhed as Fawn struggled against the wave of emotions, and he searched for anything he could use to break the chant's hold on his being.

And boy did he find it.

Triumphant, he raised his voice in song:

 _IIIII tell myself_

 _Hey only fooools rush in, only time will tell_

 _If we stand the test of tiiiime!_

 _Allll I know,_

 _You've got to run to win, and I'll be damned if_

 _I'll get hung up on the liiiine!_

Astonished, FUNK recognized the off-key melody of one of the more tolerable song's they'd sat through during the drive. One by one, they all joined in, the discordant mess freeing their minds of the chant's effects.

 _Hey!_

 _No I can't recall- Anythiiing at all_

 _Oh baby this blows them all awaaayyyy_

With his mind cleared up, Fawn scanned the area for any possible escape. Stumbling behind the front desk, he noticed a trap door. He swung it open and, still singing, grabbed his team and ushered them towards the welcoming silent void.

 _It's got what it takes_

 _So tell me whyyy can't this be looooove?_

 _You want it straight from the heeeaaaart_

 _Oh tell me whyyy can't this be loooooove?_

They jumped down the hole, and once the door had been closed behind them, sweet silence filled their skulls. They collapsed into a panting heap, and leaned on each other for support (well, leaned on Umbra for support). Once their wits were collected, they noticed a candle-lit pathway, carved out of the dirt. Chanting, blissfully normal (as normal as chants in mysterious languages can be, anyways), echoed off the earthen walls. FUNK straightened themselves up, and made their way down the corridor, between the rows of waxy candles.

The chanting grew louder, coming to a crescendo before a sharp leftward turn in the tunnel, and FUNK realized that they were about to walk in on whatever they had found themselves stuck in the middle of. They steeled themselves one last time. Fawn glanced around at his team, and noticed that Umbra's eyes were still wide with fear. He gave grin and a nod, as if they were just in a normal bar and were about to approach some beautiful women. This seemed to hearten his teammate, who gave Navy a soft punch on the shoulder. Navy had his katanas drawn and raised, ready to fight whatever was behind the next corner. Keppel, ever sane, pumped the action on his shotgun, expelling a shell into the dirt.

"Fuck," he swore, "I forgot I'd already pumped it."

Combat-ready (as they'd ever be, at least), they rounded the corner, weapons (and shield) raised.

Fawn found himself staring into the eyes of the old lady who'd checked them in. She gave him the same, soft smile she had when telling them they would have to share a bed, then Fawn felt the impact of several buckshot on his shield. His arm tensed, and he braced his pistol-arm on the top of his protection. He squeezed off two rounds in quick succession, hitting the lady in both shoulders. Ever-smiling, she raised the shotgun with her bleeding arms, to point it at his head. As he inhaled, he sent one last round straight above her upper lip, and her body collapsed like a sack of potatoes. The rest of FUNK had spread out around the room, and were similarly engaged. Umbra was swinging his massive blade theatrically, holding off two crazed men, who were armed with small shivs. Keppel was idly firing his shotgun into anybody who approached him, whistling the tune to the song they had sung up above. Navy, meanwhile, was dancing around his opponents, and aimed for perfect rear attacks, as he used his naturally dark attire to blend in with the shadows.

Fawn found himself confronted by two more locals, who simply rushed at him. Now calm, he dropped them in the same fashion he had the old lady, and he heard their bodies drop with satisfying thumps. As he reoriented, he saw a circle, drawn in the same red paint, with a beautiful girl writhing in the center. Her screams and cries echoed off the packed walls of the atrium, while the constant droning of a man wearing what looked to be a tarp carried on in the background.

"Over there!" He shouted to Umbra, who glanced over. As soon as he saw the potential rescuee, his eyes lit up like small blue fires, and he knocked the two assailants backwards with a well-timed thrust. Cavalier as always, he roared at the calm-looking priest, and charged with his sword raised to strike. Calmly, the man extended an arm, and an arc of lighting sailed across the opening, and threw Umbra back.

As Fawn realized that they were quickly on the cusp of losing control of the situation, he raised his shield and pistol, and began to advance on the circle while shooting at the priest. The dust projectiles whizzed around, always seeming to miss their mark by a hair, until Fawn had reached the edge of the circle. Then the priest loudly proclaimed:

"YOU SEEK TO DISTURB THE SUMMONING OF YUGGOTH, SISTER AND CREATION OF THE DARK BROTHER?" The man's bright hazel eyes bored directly into Fawn's soul.

As he cowered behind his shield, he managed to squeak out a reply.

"Maybe?"

"THEN SO BE IT! YOU SHALL BE THE FIRST OF MANY TO SLATE HER THIRST FOR BLOOD!"

Fawn didn't have to hear that twice. He charged forwards, and as he saw the man raise his hand to throw another bolt, he threw his shield.

The bolt arced through the air, striking Fawn in the chest. His aura took the hit, but he struggled to get the air back into his lungs. He noticed that the chanting had stopped, and sat himself up.

He saw the small woman, who had been laying in the center of the circle standing above the prone figure of the priest, and impaled him with a sharp stick. Fawn's shield lay next to the man's head—it had clearly connected.

The woman leaned heavily on the now-upright stick, her breathing was ragged.

"Please… Help."

Then she collapsed.

* * *

When she came to, FUNK had carried her outside into the warm-ish night. Umbra had grabbed his coat from the car and draped it over her body chivalrously. Fawn suspected that his smitten friend just wanted an excuse to talk to the poor girl, but at least what he was speaking wasn't that abomination of a language the priest had been using.

Her awakening was sudden, and Fawn nearly died of a heart attack when she shot up to her feet with a jump. She took a look around suspiciously but was eventually coaxed back into the comfortable warmth of Umbra's jacket. She turned to Umbra, and gave him a smile. Fawn could see his friend's heart melt slightly. The girl was petite, but looked to be around their age. Her fair complexion was complimented by platinum hair, and her purple eyes put Fawn's own to shame.

"Is this your jacket? It must be because it's so big!" And she giggled. Fawn looked towards Navy and rolled his eyes when he was sure Umbra and the girl were distracted. Navy just sighed and continued to clean his swords.

"I remember you all from the basement. You saved me! I can't thank you enough!"

And now she had Umbra in an embrace. The man was gone—brain melted.

"My name's Pluto. Who are you?"

Umbra puffed out his chest and gestured to himself.

"That's a very pretty name," he said smoothly. "I've never met anybody named that before! My name's Umbra. I'm pretty much the leader here." Fawn knew that arguing the point in front of a girl Umbra wanted to impress wasn't worth it, so he ignored his friend's blatant bluster. Lily turned towards him.

"My name's Fawn," he said, trying to give a smile. Maybe it was the after-effects of the foyer experience, but her eyes on him made him feel uneasy. He turned with her towards Keppel, who was watching from a small distance.

"I'm Keppel," he stated, before continuing his thousand-yard vigil. Finally, she locked eyes with Navy, whose gaze shifted away.

"Name's _Nightraven_." He nodded, coolly. Fawn _had_ to intervene at this point. This was getting out of hand.

"His name's Navy. He just likes to say he's somebody else," he interjected. 'Nightraven' gave him a dismissive look, and continued talking.

"The assassins who killed my parents and trained me gave me the name Nightraven," he continued shamelessly. "It was only after I had surpassed and killed them all that I had to assume the name _Navy_ , to escape the crooked authorities.

Fawn sighed inwardly. Once Navy got on a roll, there was no stopping him. Sure, the details changed every now and then, but generally the story remained the same. Instead of 'assassins' it might be a 'death cult', or 'clowns', or whatever, but the main arc was the same. Fawn was great at tuning it out by now, so he stared into the fire, attempting to silence the stirrings of fear in the back of his mind. What exactly were those symbols that had nearly driven them all mad? What did they mean, and more importantly: how did they work like that?

"—and once that was done, I was awarded the position of High Ninja Pope, and decided that I might as well go to Haven and become a hunter, since I'd done everything else already."

Fawn glanced at Lily, and even her attentive eyes had glazed over slightly. There was something behind that expression, though. Maybe she was having the same thoughts he was? He decided to cut in. Navy's story was wrapping up anyways.

"Spoiler alert: he becomes headmaster."

"Hey, that was the best part!"

"Anyways, Lily, do you have any idea what those people in there were doing?" He gestured in the vague direction of the inn.

The small woman shivered, as if a cold breeze had just cut through the heavy fabric on top of her.

"They wanted my body to be a vessel for the dark spirit known as Yuggoth," she said, as she hugged her knees in to her chest. "Do you know the story of the Two Brothers?"

"Well yeah," Umbra cut in loudly. "Learned it when I was a kid from my mom."

She looked up at him and smiled softly.

"And do you know of the story of the Dark Sister?"

"Uhhhhhhh no?"

She inhaled gently, and began to tell them.

* * *

The Tale of the Dark Sister  
Or  
Why we can't have nice things anymore

* * *

After they had cooperated to create humanity, the two brothers went their separate ways. The Light Brother aided the creations, granting them boons and favours. Meanwhile, the Dark Brother skulked in the shadows, looking to tempt those humans not satisfied with their lives as they were. He offered dark boons and corrupting gifts, playing off their greed and short-sightedness. This proved difficult, however, as the Light Brother visited the humans often to placate them.

So the Dark Brother mixed his blood with clay taken from the shallows of the lake he and his twin had emerged from on Remnant those millennia ago. He shaped it into a woman, and baked the clay in his stomach for 11 days and 11 nights, until his "sister" came into being. She was a being of incredible power, able to drive humans insane through her whispers on the wind. Together, she and her brother strove to drive the new human race into madness and greed, to reduce them to animals.

When the Light Brother discovered this, he traveled to the human capital, to organize them against this new threat. The worshippers of the Dark Siblings sieged the capital with the aid of the grimm, earlier creations of the Dark Brother. With their supplies running low, the humans elected a champion, upon whom the Light Brother bestowed all manner of boons, including a magical blade called S'uhn –

* * *

"Wait up, why are all these names so hard to pronounce?"

Fawn silently cursed Umbra—he'd been listening intently to the story, and didn't exactly enjoy interruptions.

"It's the language of the old gods," she replied, patiently. "It can't be truly uttered by humans."

That seemed to placate Umbra, who settled in slightly closer to their storyteller. Fawn was intent on listening even more closely—the words sounded extremely similar to what had invaded their minds in the inn.

* * *

… Including the magical blade called S'uhn, which could never miss an attack, would never rust, and could cut through iron as if it were cloth. Furthermore, the Champion was given a mythic aura.

Once the army was prepared, it poured out, and with the Champion leading the charge, they pushed the horde back out of the kingdom. The Champion then returned, and ruled the humans until dying hundreds of years later, finally succumbing to age. The sword was entombed with him in the ancient capital.

The Dark Siblings were unable to fully rally from their catastrophic defeat. Furious, they blamed each other, and split their camps, each taking their faithful with them out into new areas of Remnant. While the Dark Brother brooded, the Dark Sister built her strength through witchcraft, until her army was a match for that of humanity's.

Once the Champion was dead, she marched on the ancient capital, nearly destroying it with magic. She had long eyed the relics the Brothers had gifted to humanity, and planned to use them to ascend even what they were capable of.

The Dark and Light Brother realized the danger, and rallied together to confront the Sister, who was once again sieging the capital. She broke the walls before the Brothers could relieve the beleaguered humans inside, and fierce fighting took place as one by one the districts fell. By the time the Brothers reached the city, the humans' hold had been reduced to the fortress in the center of the city. A young prince, descended of the Champion, descended into the crypt and reclaimed the sword, gaining the powers of the Champion. With him leading the charge, and the Sister's path of retreat gone thanks to her Brothers, her army was slowly destroyed.

Before she could be killed, she used the power she had built over centuries to curse humanity to forever remain on Remnant. That depleted her power enough for the Brothers to seal her into the moon, and the Brothers mutually decided to interfere no more, and wandered away forever, never to visit humanity again.

* * *

Fawn shivered. The air felt significantly cooler now, and the wind had picked up. He glanced upwards, observing the pale glow of the shattered moon.

"And that's it," Pluto said, anticlimactically.

"Sounds quite fleshed out, for a story," mentioned Keppel, skeptically.

Pluto threw off the jacket, revealing her slender form, clad only in a nightgown. She slowly stood, and her eyes seemed to glow.

"Don't you know? There's always some truth in fairy tales."

The back of Fawn's mind screamed at him to run, and it took a second for the rest to register exactly why. The young woman was glowing, like the moon itself, and her eyes burned red, as if with flame. When she next opened her mouth to speak, it was as if the words were directly transmitted into their heads through a thousand voices crying out at once.

"This form is still too weak to contain my full power, since you interrupted the ritual early. I think I shall take your vehicle as my own, for now." The unholy choir continued singing in Fawn's head, and the mutterings in the Old Language once again rose from the depths. Pluto, though by now he was sure it was Yuggoth, slowly and gracefully walked to the car, despite the fact that her feet barely touched the ground.

Umbra was frozen in horror, his head turned to the beautiful and terrible figure. Navy was in a similar situation, his typically cool demeanor betrayed by eyes, which were wide with fright. Keppel stayed rooted to the ground, his shotgun clutched tightly against his chest.

Yuggoth tugged gently on the door handle, and it swung open smoothly. She slowly lowered herself into the seat, and the engine roared to life as she touched the dashboard. She turned to look back at them. Her face was covered in shadow, but her eyes and teeth remained bright. Something in his peripheral vision turned Fawn's head. It was Keppel.

His weapon was now pointed at the car, and his face was strained from resisting the physical effects of the mental barrage. Her voices sang once again in their heads.

"Fool, what do you think shooting that pathetic toy at me would accomplish?"

Keppel began to grunt, and Fawn saw his trigger finger twitch.

"This!" He grunted out, as he slammed his finger home. Flames burst from the end of the weapon, and fiery projectiles arced towards the form in the car.

Yuggoth's smile never faded as the shot missed her completely, striking various harmless parts of the interior instead. Fawn at once saw his friend's brilliance, as the smouldering remains of the projectiles burned their way through the interior cloth.

He only just managed to summon the willpower to cover his face, as the car was transformed into a funeral pyre. A mental scream cut through their minds, dying slowly as secondary explosions forced FUNK to take cover, now that they were free of the paralyzing effects.

Slowly, Fawn climbed out of the ditch he had thrown himself into. Keppel was still standing where he had been, shotgun still aimed at the flaming wreck. There was no body inside.

Fawn was darkly amused at his friend's lack of eyebrows. Umbra looked almost betrayed, and was soaking wet. Navy emerged from behind the tree he had sought refuge behind. He glowered at Umbra.

" **This** is exactly why I don't trust women."

He wasn't exactly overjoyed when this comment was greeted with raucous laughter from the rest of the team. Even Keppel nearly doubled over. Between deep breaths, Fawn managed to reply.

"You're seriously afraid all women will turn out to be dark goddesses?"

Navy was nearly pouting now.

"Well if you'd listened to my story, then you'd know this has happened at least three times before."

The other three's laughter carried for miles, and only abated as they slowly realized exactly how fucked they were.


End file.
